Rediscovery
by MahliaLily
Summary: Rediscovery: The act of discovering again (Lit)


**Rediscovery**

"Touch my tears

With your lips

Touch my world

With your fingertips

And we can have

Forever"

He came.

She hadn't expected him to; in fact, it was the last thing she'd expected. She'd never even intended to invite him. Not officially. Her mind had been wavering back and forth for weeks now. But that particular day, as she'd been sitting at her desk, blindly scrawling addresses on the envelopes, his had flowed out as easily as the ink.

The address had been rolling around in her head for three years, occasionally popping into her mind out of nowhere – a lot like he usually did. She'd never written it, never voiced it, never given it any sort of tangible presence, until that moment.

Before she'd had time to reconsider, she'd thrown a card into the envelope, sealed it, slapped on a stamp, and buried it somewhere in the middle of the pile. Then, she'd pretended like it never existed. When it slid into the mailbox the next day, her heart had fluttered. And then she'd forgotten about it.

Mostly.

She just hadn't given it another thought.

At least, no more than once a week, day, hour, minute.

Second.

Regardless, his presence still took her by surprise. She just hadn't thought he'd come.

She watched him from across the room. His hair was shorter – so short that a stranger wouldn't guess that it had a natural wave to it. But otherwise, he looked the same. She smiled, grateful for some reason.

He looked tired, or worried. She wasn't sure. He edged his way into the room, trying to avoid the glances of Stars Hollow townspeople. Of the wealthy friends of her grandparents. Of anyone, really. He'd always favored invisibility.

Absently, Rory played with the tassel on the end of the cord slung around her neck and waited.

His eyes met hers.

She didn't know whether to smile or wave or jump up and down and flail like an idiot. She looked away. Moments later, she felt him near.

"Hey," he said quietly.

She met his eyes and opened her mouth to respond. The breath caught in her throat, and the sound that came out sounded more like the utterance of a farm animal than a human.

He smirked.

She cleared her throat and tried again. "Hey."

He nodded, studying her intently.

She shifted.

"Nice cords," he remarked, gesturing at them.

"Oh," she said breathlessly, fingering them. "Honors."

"I figured."

She looked around the room and then back at him.

His face grew serious. "Why am I here exactly?"

"I graduated," she said simply.

"Which explains the girl with the funny-looking hat on the cake," he replied, looking in its direction.

Rory smiled.

Jess looked at her again. "It's been three years."

"I know."

"I wasn't going to come."

"I'm glad you did."

"I'm not sure I am," he said honestly.

They both fell silent.

"I should have said yes," she spoke abruptly, getting to the point.

He froze.

"That day, I should have said yes."

"Well, you didn't," Jess answered, his voice slightly tinged with irritation.

"But I should have. Or at least, I shouldn't have said no."

He looked past her and didn't reply.

Her voice was soft when she spoke. "Jess?"

"That was a long time ago."

"I know," she admitted.

He met her eyes. "Why tell me now?"

"Why did you come?"

He shrugged. "Curiosity."

"Me too."

He gave her a puzzled look.

She took a step forward and, in front of everyone, pressed her lips to his. She felt his surprised intake of breath and then the gentle pressure of his hand against the small of her back. It was a familiar gesture. She felt her whole body go warm.

When she pulled away, he just stared at her blankly, uncertainly; they were both unaware of all of the eyes now focused on them, the gossip of one onlooker having spread around the room.

A beat later, he turned and walked out the door. Rory hurried after him, and the crowd broke out into frenzied whispers.

"Jess, wait," she called.

He pursed his lips then turned to face her. "What was that?"

"A kiss."

"Yeah, I know. It's been _three_ years, Rory."

"I don't care."

"Well, I do," he scoffed. "I didn't come here for this."

"Then, why did you come?"

"Because you asked me," he said quickly. "I figured you must have a reason."

"I do," she promised.

"What?"

Her heart sped up. "Come with me."

"What?"

"Come with me," she repeated.

Bewildered, he shook his head. "This is insane."

"Probably," Rory agreed. "Don't think about it. Come with me."

He recognized the words. "What are you doing, Rory?"

"I'm ready," she said firmly. "I wasn't before. Not in high school, and not when you showed up at my dorm room out of nowhere and asked me to come with you. But I'm ready now. And I know this doesn't make sense, and you're probably confused. _I'm_ confused," she admitted. "But not about you. And not about us. Not anymore."

"It's too late."

A tear of quiet desperation slid down her cheek. "No, it isn't," she vowed.

"Maybe I'm seeing someone."

Her heart stopped. "Are you?"

He shook his head in disbelief. "I could be, Rory. That's the point. I could be. You can't just assume that I'm gonna drop everything and be with you. You never even wanted to be with me when we were together."

"Yes, I did."

He frowned at her.

"You're all I wanted, Jess. You were everything I wanted. I just didn't realize it until I discovered that every other guy I've known has paled in comparison to you."

He shook his head again. "Rory, you're having one of those post-college crises. You're scared, that's all."

"I'm not scared," she said.

He sighed.

"I'm not. For once, I'm not."

He took a deep breath. "Congratulations on your graduation, Rory." Then, he turned to walk away.

"How come you can show up out of nowhere and make demands, but I can't?"

He turned slightly and glanced at her. "Because you're not like that. You think everything through. You plan. You make lists."

"What makes you think I haven't done all of that?" she demanded.

He faltered.

"Cons," she listed. "My mom will freak out. My grandparents will freak out. The town will freak out. It might not work. He might not want me. It might be too late."

He didn't move.

"Pros: It might work. He might want me. If I wait any longer, it might be too late. Even after three years," she continued, her voice trailing off. "I love him."

"Rory," he said desperately.

"I know we're supposed to be together."

"No, we're not. I'm a mess. You've lost your mind."

"You're perfect," she stated.

When he remained silent, she took a step towards him. "Only say 'no' if you really don't want to be with me," she finished.

His eyes trailed over her face. Even though it had been years since he'd seen it, it was more familiar to him than his own. Her eyes were wide, hopeful, desperate, waiting for his reaction.

Hesitantly, he reached out and ran the very tip of his finger along the path her tear had left behind on her cheek, stopping at the edge of her lips. Then, he stepped forward and carried the salt away on his own. Her body jerked with relief, and soon more tears were falling, wetting his lips and reminding him of the ocean. He pulled her close, and her fingers drifted up to his hair, feeling how different its shorter strands felt.

Everything was different. His lips were more experienced. The scent of his cologne was muskier, sweeter. His arms held her more strongly, confidently. Different was good.

He pulled away, and she smiled. "Is that a 'yes'?"

He smirked. "It isn't a 'no'."

Her grin grew as she leaned towards him again. "It's a start," she whispered against his mouth before rediscovering him again.


End file.
